Fate Harvest Phantasm
by Chicken Yuki
Summary: After harboring a longstanding grudge for one another, Chelsea and Vaughn final settle their score! However, unknown to the silver-haired cowboy, things start to go really downhill for him...


_**Disclaimer: All your Harvest Moon are belong to Marvelous Interactive and Natsume.**_

* * *

It was a hot summer day.

The illustrious, silver-haired animal exporter known as Vaughn had been invited to the farmland domain of Chelsea's in order to settle a longstanding grudge that stood between them since they first met.

So in reality, it was more of a duel than anything else.

In his black in brown cowboy clothing, Vaughn made his way to his archenemy's domain, unprepared for what may be in store for him. Appearance-wise, it seemed that he had the upper hand, but he didn't count out the deceit behind Chelsea's petite frame, for it held formidable brute strength.

At last, he arrived, with the brunette farmer standing right in front of her well-tilled field.

"So, you finally come." Chelsea said aloud dramatically.

The grumpy cowboy groaned and sighed, as he was still unsure in what way they would settle their infamous grudge.

"Listen, I know we're here to settle things once and for all due to your careless farming, but this match up better not children's card games, or even card games on motorcycles. Do you know how lame that is? I'd rather we settle this with real athletic events like-"

"Oh don't worry," Chelsea cut off, "We're doing this like true warriors. No silly card games. I believe it would only be more fitting to settle this like the Ancient Romans did…"

The confused cowboy raised an eyebrow.

"Like the Ancient Romans?" he repeated.

"Yes," Chelsea answered, "like in, oh say… Gladiatorial Combat?"

"What the hell are you talking about now, you crazy faux farmer?" Vaughn roared, "I don't see any coliseum here! Just your stupid house and your stupid ill-tilled field!"

"Oh, I can fix that real easily," Chelsea smirked, "It's too bad it will be on my home turf, but at least it will provide an appropriate battlefield."

The skeptical cowboy winced in disbelief.

"What? Are you going to summon this "battlefield" out of nowhere?" he asked mockingly.

"Something like that," Chelsea, "Too bad for you that it also involves calling forth your own weakness in full force."

"Weakness? What weakness?" Vaughn asked.

The brunette farmer in orange clothing focused her mind and started chanting mystic words in an eerie, yet inexplicably sexy tone of voice:

_I am the stem of my meat.  
Orange is my body, and carotene is my blood.  
I have plowed over a thousand fields  
Unknown to Jack.  
Nor known to Claire.  
Have withstood exhaustion to plant many vegetables.  
Yet, these vegetables will never satisfy anything.  
So as I farm,_

_'Unlimited Carrots Works!_

Suddenly, the reality around both foes warped itself, turning into a seemingly endless wasteland without civilization in sight. But just before Vaughn could utter another world, the land grew unusually fertile, and numerous green stems sprout up around him. The vegetation around them grew faster and bigger, until the cowboy discovered, in sheer horror, that he was surrounded by nothing but bright orange carrots that towered over him.

"I sure how you'll enjoy your daily dosage of carotene," Chelsea taunted as she drew two carrot-like swords from the ground below her.

The silver-haired cowboy gulped; utterly terrified at the environment he was forced into.

"I-Impossible… carrots grow in the fall! A-and the current season is summer! What kind of madness is this?" Vaughn demanded.

"It matters not what season it is, fool." Chelsea taunted haughtily, "My reality marble allows me to call forth any crop I've memorized by its look and taste. I don't even need the experience to grow it in order the materialize it into being."

Upon realizing this, Vaughn sensed that there was no escape. No matter which way he looked, carrots flooded his vision by the eyeful, and now Chelsea was armed with two fatal weapons that could prove to be the bane of his existence. He had no choice to flee in terror, as useless as his struggle was.

"So then, King of Cowboys, do you have enough hats?" Chelsea cried.

Without warning, the brunette farmer sprung forth and began her ruthless assault on the unarmed cowboy. With twin blades in hand, she pursued him non-stop, hacking away as he forced himself to dodge every slash. He was even forced to use his precious black 10-gallon hat to defend himself, which proved unusually effective. For awhile, he shielded himself from harm with his black hat, until Chelsea finally slashed it away from his grasp. With that last blow, the helpless young man fell on his bottom, with no room for escape. His back was up against one of the very vegetables he hated, while his adversary wielded two more. With Vaughn finally cornered, Chelsea smiled with sadistic delight as she took one of her sharp carrot blades and prepared to thrust it straight at Vaughn's mouth.

The unfortunate soul was sweating bullets. He knew nothing more could be done. All he could do was prepare for his inevitable fate. Time seemed to slow down as Chelsea thrust her sleek carrot sword straight into Vaughn's mouth.

Then everything went black.

"Hey, are you up yet?" a familiar voice asked.

Vaughn suddenly awoke inside a house that he recognized to be Chelsea's living space, shirtless. Though the next thing he saw proved to be an unusual sight.

"You? What the hell are you doing here? And what are you doing in my clothes?"

The western-glad brunette stared back at him, looking like a gender-bent reflection of the cowboy's usual temperament.

"What's it matter to you? I simply felt like it, that's all." She answered rather casually, "And if that blow to the head really wiped your memory so easily, I'll remind you that you tried to show me up by riding my horse. You looked like a real ass back there."

The confused cowboy sighed. He wasn't quite sure how their personal feud led to such a situation, but he was clad that the farmer was no longer crazed and out to kill him with carotene-infused swords like back in his dream.

"How's the patient doing?" a voice from the kitchen called out.

"He's better, apparently. And awake." Chelsea replied rather stoically.

Vaughn turned his head to see a young woman with raven black hair wearing an old-fashioned pink outfit and glasses.

"Sabrina?" Vaughn asked.

"Well, yeah." Chelsea scoffed, "What, you think I'd be the one doing the whole "nurse you back to health" bit? I personally don't get what worth she sees in you to pull it off, but I already learned it's better just to let her do her thing. Besides, I can't let some lousy cowboy mooch off of me forever because of some self-induced injury."

The grumpy cowboy grumbled.

"It was your damn horse. That still makes you responsible…" he muttered under his brother.

"Oh, honey, it wouldn't hurt if you tried being nicer to him! Providing him with a more nurturing environment should make the healing process go by much faster!" Sabrina told Chelsea.

"Honey?" Vaughn repeated.

"Oh, come on! You know how hard it is to get some "us time" around these islands? Even your dad and cousin hang out at the mines, and I could have sworn that was the most remote location around!" Chelsea complained.

"Honey…" Sabrina sighed.

As Vaughn witnessed the conversation unfolding before him, he grew even more confused.

"H-hold on a second," Vaughn interrupted, "You two… almost sound like a couple or something."

"Where the hell have you been?" Chelsea roared, "Did that blow to the head give you amnesia, too? Of course we're a couple!"

"Um… yes. The two of us had our coming out quite a while ago. I suppose we still have our problems to deal with, but the fact that we've stayed together for so long must mean there's something to this bond we share." Sabrina answered sheepishly. "I'm just glad we have the support of the islanders to fall back on."

Vaughn then saw Chelsea, still dressed in his clothes, shed a sympathetic tear for her apparent beau.

"S-Sabrina. I'm sorry. I was being insensitive again, wasn't I?" she said softly.

"No, it's alright. You're just frustrated, right? I know you're more patient than that. I won't get angry over something so petty." Sabrina replied gently.

"Sabrina…"

"Chelsea…"

Right before him, the pair embraced each other warmly.

The whole scene was really starting to take its toll on his sanity.

It wasn't really a denial built on homophobia, but more like the fact that these two people before him had never exhibited any sort of behavior like this until now. He could have sworn neither party showed any sign of harboring such affection until this very moment.

Once more, the reality around him began to crumble, only taking more of a toll internally than externally.

Finally, the hopelessly confused cowboy screamed as his sanity shattered completely, but with loving couple somehow ignoring his mad yell, until suddenly…

"_Do anything for Dethklok  
Do anything for Dethklok  
Do anything for Dethklok  
Do anything for Dethklok…"_

The cowboy woke up, _yet again_, but in his own living space this time. The television before him was turned on, showing a secne of a death metal band riding towards the camera on motorcycles.

"What… the hell… was that?" he mumbled to himself bitterly as he turned the television off.

With the room finally silent, Vaughn tried to recollect his thoughts experiencing his rather trippy double dream.

"That first nightmare managed to make more sense than the second, but where the hell did that second one come from?"

He experienced a brief flashback of the brunette being rather chummy with her raven-haired friend, only to turn red and violently proclaim:

"Ugh, for the last time, I'm not a lesbian!"

He could tell she was telling the truth. The poor girl was just as, if not even more, social awkward than he was, and was just extremely grateful to have an understanding friend.

Unfortunatley, the bitter cowboy also remembered taking the time to make some snide remark on their closeness and receiving a black eye in return, prompting the the vocal denial.

Perhaps he was envious of their closeness, or perhaps he had some peculiar surpressed fetishes he'd rather not accept at the moment.

Whatever the case may be, the implications of the latter dream quickly became the last thing on his mind.

All he could do was shiver as carrots once again filled his head with nightmares, along with one other point of interested that bothered him…

"Feh. I'm not anything like that farmer…" he muttered to himself.

* * *

**I simply felt like giving me some prep time for the final chapter of "Memories of the Shell Sea" by writing this mind screw . Sorry for making anyone extremely uncomfortable in the process, though I'm not all that interested in writing "real" yuri. This was just to further the madness.**

**Oh, and "Unlimited Blade Works" is a spoof of a special move from Visual Novel/Anime/Manga "Fate Stay/Night".**

**Fate/ Stay Night © type-moon**

**Metalocalypse (cameo) © Turner Broadcasting System**


End file.
